ROSA KHUTOR – Many in the spectator stands had their hearts in their mouth at times Saturday watching the carnage-filled men’s sit-ski downhill race at the Paralympics.

Canadian Josh Dueck was one of the guys to thrive, in part he believes, because of the “supernova” that was close to his heart.

Skiing with a tiny picture of his five-month-old daughter Nova tucked inside his clothes, the 33-year-old from Vernon battled a challenging course to grab the silver medal on the opening day of competition at the 2014 Sochi Paralympic Games.

“She sits on my heart every day,” said a beaming Dueck as he unzipped his jacket and inner layer to pull out the picture. “I come up here and she’s with me and she gives me a little bit of strength.

“And I think the innocence of youth allows me to channel that energy through, right? You get so hyped in the start, you’ve got so many emotions, so many feelings, so much going through you. It’s like she’s a conduit to let some of that energy permeate and some to flow through.

“It’s pretty cool to have her along with me in this journey. And I look forward to one day sharing the stories with her.”

The silver medal – matching the one he won in slalom at the 2010 Paralympics – came 10 years to the day that he broke his back in a freestyle ski crash at Vernon’s Silver Star Mountain, leaving him a paraplegic.

“I’ve thought about that a lot over the last couple of weeks,” said Dueck, who earned considerable acclaim two years ago when he became the first sit-skier to complete a back-flip on snow. “Fortunately, I was able to forget about it on race day.

“That was a very powerful moment in time,” he added of the crash that broke his back but not his spirit of adventure. “So is today. It’s a matter of coming around full circle again. Moving forward is very important in what we do in life and this is another example of it.”

Dueck, the fifth of 21 skiers out of the start gate, held the lead through the next seven skiers with a time of one minute, 24.19 seconds before Akira Kano of Japan came down .39 seconds quicker to take gold. Takeshi Suzuki of Japan earned the bronze medal in 1:24.75.

Kurt Oatway of Calgary and Caleb Brousseau of Terrace, B.C., were fifth and sixth, respectively, and two only 12 to actually finish. Nine skiers recorded DNF’s, many following crashes, including a spectacular cartwheeling tumble down the hill by American Tyler Walker.

It looked so bad on the big screen in the finish corral that the Official Broadcaster Service was switched off before Walker came to rest. He was taken off the hill by helicopter, his condition unknown.

On a warm 7C day, the soft, deteriorating snow conditions were a challenge as the male sit skiers were the last of six groups – women’s sit-ski, standing and visually impaired and men’s standing and visually impaired were the others – to race on the same course.

“I wasn’t concerned about the hill,” said Dueck. “I had a line in mind and I was able to stick to it. I took some chances, got lucky. Pretty sure I had some angels on my side for a few of those gates I was just clipping. Second is awesome.”

He also had huge confidence in his equipment, including a new shock system the Canadians feel gives them an edge on the rest of the field.

“There were some hazards out there . . . but we’ve done a lot of work on our equipment and I had 100 per cent trust in the gear that I’m riding and I knew that the sit-ski would handle the terrain,” said Dueck. “All I had to do was find the line and try to be as fast as I could on it. A good driver can manage the conditions.”

“I know a lot of the guys were in the start and they were scared. They saw the terrain, got reports and the more course delays (there were), it really builds a sense of fear.

“But I don’t think it was too dangerous. It was the perfect course to showcase our abilities as athletes.”

Brousseau, a 25-year-old Paralympic rookie from Terrace, B.C., said despite all the crashes he believed the course was “definitely safe.

“It comes down to how well you ski it and how hard you push yourself. We’re all pushing ourselves to the limit. We train for this. We train to take our hits, we get up and we go back and do it again. That’s our game.”

Dueck said he used one of his coaches’ phones to call his wife, Lacy, back home in Vernon immediately after the race.

“She was to the moon. In tears, but relieved as well. She knows I’m not much of a risk-taker, but the consequences are the same for everybody. She was relieved and thrilled.”

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